


Secrets in Sleep

by Torched22



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alien Biology, Consensual, First Kiss, First Time, Gay Panic, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Questions Of Consent, Sexsomnia, Sleep Groping, Sleep Sex, Sleep Walking, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25133878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torched22/pseuds/Torched22
Summary: Eighteen-year-old Clark, who is fast becoming enemies with his former best friend, finds himself sleep walking once again, only this time, the impetus for doing so is VERY different. His alien biological clock is going off and its literally dragging a sleeping Clark towards Lex.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lex Luthor
Comments: 24
Kudos: 179





	1. Chapter 1

The first time it happened, Lex wasn't quite sure what to think. His head of security, Lucas, came knocking at his bedroom door at around 3 am and because he's a light sleeper, Luthor jolted upright in bed and gave the command to enter, knowing that he wouldn't be disturbed unless it was serious. 

The doorknob squeaked and light from the hallway spilled into his expansive bedroom as Lucas' blurry form came into focus. 

If he didn't sleep naked, he would have been up and out of bed. "What the hell's going on?" 

"An intruder sir." 

"What?" Lex huffed out a laugh. Here? In Smallville? Who the hell would..."

"Clark Kent." 

A beat of silence passed between them in which Lex heard his own steady breath and the whisper of air conditioning. "Clark?" the word was spoken with incredulity and disbelief. He shook his head and ran a hand over his face. "Is he still here?"

"No, sir," Lucas said with a tinge of embarrassment. We tried to keep him but..."

"But an eighteen-year-old proved too strong and/or wily for you? A former Navy Seal?" 

"It was the oddest thing sir..." 

"What was?"

"Well, it was like he wasn't even aware of where he was. We found him in the entry hallway." 

"How the hell did he get past the gate? Past the alarm system? In the front door?" he waved his arms in frustration.

Lucas gripped his hands in front of him and something like shame rolled off of him. "Those are questions we've all been asking since the boy was fifteen." 

"And we still have no answers?" 

"No sir. There isn't even video footage." 

"Unbelievable," Lex swung his legs to the edge of the bed and stood, no longer caring about his nakedness. He walked through the near darkness to his dresser, grabbed at a knob and pulled a drawer open. He reached in blindly and fished out a pair of gym shorts. "How could there be no video footage?" 

"I don't know sir. There never is where he's concerned." 

"Fucking hell," Lex cursed. "Tell me what happened. Tell me everything." Lex was sliding the loose fabric up, one leg at a time. 

"I caught him in the hallway. The house alarm was disabled and the door was open. He had this... blank expression on his face until I touched him."

Lex's head whipped to the side to regard Lucas, a stony look of concern darkening his features illuminated only by the soft light from the hall. He imagined Lucas accosting Clark and his stomach turned. A tight possessiveness rolled through him. 

"I said his name several times. At first I was yelling, weapon drawn, until I saw who it was. I've known him four years and I know that he's on the no-go list, but I wasn't about to shoot a kid...unless your life was directly in danger. So I touched his shoulder and said his name and it was like he...he..."

"He what? Spit it out!" Lex walked towards him. 

"It was like he was sleep walking." 

"Sleep walking?" Lex's chin dropped in disbelief. "The Kent Farm is thirteen miles away," he thought a loud, hoping Lucas would overlook his obsessive attention to details he ought not to know.

"I can't explain it sir."

"There's a lot in Smallville that can't be explained," he tied the strings at his waist as he walked towards Lucas and then past him. "Show me the video footage." 

"I will but there's not a single thing out of the ordinary. Not so much as a whisper of his presence, hell, the gate didn't even open.," Lucas trotted down the steps behind him. "Everything looks normal at the gate and the drive and then he's just...in the hallway." 

Bare feet padding softly across the cool wood floor, Lex moved to the front door. The lights overhead were blinding and he was none too happy about having his sleep disturbed. It wasn't often that he even managed to get a good night's sleep. Why the hell did Clark have to pick tonight? He was deep in REM. A blissful rarity.

Squatting, Lex scrutinized the lock and door jamb, running his finger over the cool metal and then the wood. He knew that Clark had always managed to sneak into the mansion without detection, but this was...different. When Clark was younger, he might sneak in during the day...Lex had always attributed it to an overly-friendly staffer or a lapse in keeping the door locked as workers came and went. But to be able to get in when he was on the 'no-go' list? In the dead of night? 

Lex stood and turned to the security panel. The light was green. 

"Do you have any footage of him shutting this off?" 

"No sir..."

"What IS the first footage you do have of him?" 

Lucas took several steps back and to the left, towards the steps. "The first time we see him on tape, he's here, it looks like he was about to head up the stairs."

Lex swallowed. 

"Do you think that he would hurt you?" 

"Clark? No. We're on the outs. Our friendship is over. We've had words...and blows..." Lex folded his arms over his bare chest. "But he would never resort to a sneak attack in the dead of night. His style is less 'ninja' and more 'sopabox.' Plus, he wouldn't seriously hurt someone. He would never actually hurt me - no matter how angry he might be with me."

"Are you sure?" 

Lex leveled Lucas with his steel gray eyes that could turn a summer day to an icy wasteland. "If I said it, that means I'm sure of it. "

"Yes sir," he nodded. 

Lex closed the front door, listening to it's soft click, and set to work re-programming the alarm pad. "If it happens again, I want you to leave him alone," he regarded Lucas without even turning to him. 

Lucas nearly choked behind him. "Sir..." 

"You heard me." 

"What if he seriously hurts you? Kills you?" 

"He won't. I don't want you interfering. If he is sleepwalking, I want to see what he does and where he goes."

"What if he goes into your bedroom?" 

Lex took a deep breath and brushed past Lucas to walk back up the steps. "Then I'll talk to him, I'll deal with him."

"You still have your Glock in your room?" 

"Of course." 

"Good." 

"You worry too much Lucas." 

"I'm your head of security Lex...it's my job to worry too much." 

"Good point," Lex said, the words trailing behind him as he ascended. "Email me the footage you do have of him in the hallway - ASAP." 

"Yes sir." 

With a heavy sigh, Lex wandered back to his room, towards behemoth bed, recalling the last time he had caught Clark sleepwalking. It was four years ago... but just like the car accident...it springs to life in his memory as if it were last week. His burning whitish yellow headlights bathed a form in the road. He had thought it was an animal and slammed on his brakes. The Porsche barely came to stop in time, but it did. Heart racing, he opened his car door and stepped into the midnight Kansas landscape. Rather than spotting a dear or a cow, he saw was a young, bewildered Clark, holding his arm up to shield against the bright headlights. 

"I could have killed you." The words fell of his lips then, and also now. He utters them to himself as he stands at the edge of his bed. He remembered returning to this bed after that incident, adrenaline still pumping. He stayed up all night that night, eyes locked onto the ceiling, marveling at how close he'd come to killing his savior. 

Clark, meanwhile, seemed wholly unfazed. The next time he saw Lex, he brushed it off as a freak accident; as if it were normal to sleep walk five miles from one's house. 

At the time, Lex was desperately vying for the young man's friendship so he didn't push the issue. Now, he wish he had. 

Lex climbed into bed and ran a hand over his head. 

Clark hadn't been to the mansion on friendly terms in half a year. There was still a stain in the rug in the study where Lex's blood was shed by Clark's mammoth fist. The staff offered to get it out but Lex told them to leave it. He couldn't admit it aloud but he rather enjoyed having the shit beaten out of him by the usually, mild mannered farm-boy. It was so...so...so satisfying to watch his resolve fracture and crumble. Lex could barely walk straight for a week with how turned on it made him. 

During that encounter, he had been so reluctant to hit Clark. He didn't want to hit him even though Clark threw him around like a rag doll. But Kent had insisted on it. And when Lex caved and his taut knuckles connected with Clark's face, a crackle of deep satisfaction rumbled through him like thunder. Seeing Clark bleed - and knowing that he caused it - was enough to unravel his psyche. He couldn't keep his hand off his cock for a month thinking about it. 

Kent always kept him on his toes, even more now that he was older, an adult. Even more now that he was Lex's adversary rather than his friend. 

Part of Lex wanted to salvage their friendship. But a darker, stronger undercurrent of his mind wanted Clark to be his enemy. He wanted to see what Clark was made of; what he could draw out of the young man and visa versa. 

Lex tongued at the scar on his upper lip and tried to shut his brain off, but there would be no success on that front, not now that he was awake - not now that Clark's ocean eyes were pouring into his soul, threatening to drown him. 

God, he desperately missed Clark. He had thought of ways he could manipulate the young man back into his life, but it seemed as if that route would no longer be necessary. 

He had so many questions now. They plagued his mind like rats running in a maze. Would Clark come to the mansion again? What exactly did he want in the dead of night? Was he actually sleep walking? Was this some weird Smallville anomaly or was this somehow linked to whatever Clark's "secret" was? 

Lex turned on his left side, relishing the press of cool sheets against his warm skin. He hated his drafty, overly-silent mansion. He hated the empty space next to him in bed. He hated Clark's knee-jerk reaction to his secret room. That was his attempt at being honest with Kent and his reward was hatred. Deep down though, he knew that was what would happen when he showed him the room. 

At least Clark had no knowledge of just how many times Lex wandered into that room totally smashed to lay down in the human sized dent on the hood and windshield. Well, not a human-sized dent...a Clark-sized dent. 

All he could do now was lie in bed and....think....

No... screw that. 

Lex flipped over like a fish and reached for a drawer of his nightstand. He yanked at the knob and opened it, reaching in and retrieving one of his many laptops. He flopped it on his abs, flicked the screen up and entered his password. The screen glowed to life and Lex clicked on his email. Sure enough, Lucas had sent him the footage ASAP. He moved his cursor over the video file and clicked. 

It showed his hallway. Empty. 

And then, as if it had skipped several frames somehow, the screen was no longer empty. The door was open. The alarm was off. Clark was standing barefoot in the foyer wearing nothing more than a pair of blue boxers. Lex tried to tamp down his desire at noticing this, but it wasn't an easy feat to undertake. Lex had never seen so much of Clark. He was miles of golden skin and well-defined muscles. 

"Fuck," he breathed. 

Lucas came into the frame, weapon drawn, moving steadily towards the intruder. Lex could see the moment when recognition dawned over his face like the sunrise and he incrementally lowered his weapon. 

Lex strained his eyes but could only see half of Clark's face. His expression did seem odd. It was as if he didn't even register Lucas or his weapon. He could see, but not hear, Lucas talking to Clark. his lips were moving, his other hand came out towards the young man. 

It wasn't until Lucas' hand made contact with Clark's shoulder that he saw Kent react in any way. 

His eyes grew wide and his lips parted, he stumbled back and appeared to be muttering apologies to Lucas. 

Lucas was trying to get him to stay, but Clark was already turning tail to leave. He was out the door before Lucas could grab him. Then the video cut to footage of the drive and the gate. Neither were disturbed. neither showed Clark leaving. 

The video went black... 

Lex snapped his laptop shut and tossed it to the bottom of his bed. 

What the fuck was going on?


	2. Chapter 2

Lex had spent a week wearing boxers to bed, barely sleeping, and expecting a repeat of Clark's nocturnal travels. He wasn't sure what he had hoped would happen, but he thought that something would. Anything. 

Lucas remained on high alert and prompted Lex to confront Clark, but he didn't take that advice. What was he supposed to do? Call Clark? Just ask him point blank what was going on? 

Clark was clearly taking the same route he always took - pretending that the weird shit going on wasn't going on. He was a master in that regard; an expert at sweeping oddities under the rug. And since his friendship with Clark was a fractured mess, any pushing on Lex's part wouldn't result in the truth anyhow. So rather than address it on it's face, Lex waited for a climax of some sort, but none came. 

It was a week and two days since Clark had broken in. Nothing odd happened after that initial break in and Lex had begun to lose faith that something would. 

Devoid of hope and drop dead tired, Lex climbed into bed naked, like he preferred, on that nondescript Thursday night. The pillow was cool against his face and the sheets smelled like fabric softener. He pulled in a deep breath and tried to quiet his mind, choosing to listen intently to the steady cycle of the air conditioning as it switched on, then off, then on, then off. Sleep crawled towards him slowly, but at least it was coming. 

Around midnight, Lex finally managed to fall asleep. He was on track for a rare, full six hours. He was deep enough in the usually elusive embrace of slumber that if Lucas (or anyone) dared disrupt him, he probably would kill them. But despite finding rest, he could not fully escape his demons. 

Unfortunately, even in sleep he couldn't escape his obsession with the farmboy. 

Clark's huge green eyes hung in Lex's dreams; the curve of his lips as they tilted in a smile, the way he used to duck his head and blush when he was embarrassed, the rich chocolate brown of his hair as the sunlight of a warm summer day caught it. All of those things lived in Lex's dreams, but perhaps not as vividly as the spectre of 15-year-old Clark on the day they first met. 

In his unconscious mind, Clark stared down at him as creek water rolled down his face in fat droplets. His pink lips were parted and his chestnut hair was curled and clinging to his forehead. 

In the scene, Lex tried to sit up and scoot back, but he couldn't. 'That was odd' he thought to himself, even in his dream. He tried again but still, he couldn't sit up. Add to that weirdness the fact that his neck felt hot...and something was digging into his back.

Sleep slid away from him as the perturbed Luthor slowly awoke, his room coming into focus. Suddenly, he was wide awake and quite aware that the sensations of his dream were rooted in reality. A jolt of panic coursed through him as Lex tried to move, but he realized that an arm was keeping him in place. He took a few deep breaths and stopped panicking when he recognized the familiar scent of his former best friend. 

Clark's cologne wafted towards him along with the clear cut smell of his soap and the faintest hint of apple. Lex swallowed, fully aware of how trapped he was...and how naked. 

"Clark," he tried to slip away, but Kent's arm was like a steel bar holding him close. 

Fuck...

His breath was hot against Lex's neck and his cock was hard. Only a thin layer of fabric, which must have been Clark's boxers, stood between Lex's ass and Clark's erection. At this realization, he couldn't help the groan that slid past his lips. 

"Fu- Cl...Clark..." he tried a little louder, using his left hand to try and pry the forearm off his chest, but it wouldn't budge. 

Clark was rocking into him, body solidly pressed against his back. He was shirtless and Lex cursed the fact that he had boxers on. 

"Fuck Clark," he rocked back into the cock slotting between his cheeks. As soon as he smelled Clark's cologne he had become hard, now his arousal was becoming unbearable. He could come like this, untouched, a prisoner of Kent's strength. 

Unfortunately, it was apparent the moment it all came crashing down. 

He uttered, "Clark," weakly, one last time, and felt Kent still. Even the pace of the breath on his neck changed. The farmboy had woken up. 

"L - Lex?" Kent breathed the word into the back of his neck, horrified. 

Consciousness slammed into Clark and he practically leapt backwards, pulling the blankets off the bed. 

Free of the bar of muscle holding him down, Lex turned and sat up, his hard cock bobbing up and hitting his belly. Even in the dark he could see the scared and bewildered look on Clark's angelic features. 

"Clark..."

"I...I'm sorry...so sorry...Lex... I..." he was stuttering and stumbling backwards, getting ready to flee.

Lex put a hand out. 

"Clark..."

"I have to go. I -"

"Wait." 

"No. I'm - I have to leave," he turned.

"Don't you owe it to me to listen to me?" Lex tried, knowing that the guilt angle would be the only one that worked. 

Clark stopped, his eyes huge like a bewildered animal caught in the headlights. It was clear that he was ready to bolt. 

"Look, I don't know what's going on with you," Lex tried softly, treating Clark like a small frightened animal. "And I don't expect you to tell me..." he continued cautiously. 

Clark was sucking in shuddering breaths and struggling to keep his eyes on Lex's face. 

Lex was fully aware of how naked and aroused he was, but making any move to cover himself would come off as weakness in his view. The blankets were gone and the air was cold against his hot arousal. He was so turned on that he briefly considered begging. He was surprised to realize that he could also come with nothing but Clark's expectant eyes upon him. 

He caught the movement of when Clark's gaze fell below his face, past his chest, and lingered on his cock. 

Clark's lips parted and he let out a little moan that threatened to split Lex's psyche in two. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What was he saying? 

"Whatever's going on...I want you to know that you can tell me as much or as little as you want. You don't have to tell me anything at all."

God, just how desperate had he become?

"I should go..." Clark grasped at himself, trying but failing to hide. Not only had Lex felt his cock against his ass, he saw its outline straining against his boxers. He was huge and Lex's mouth watered for it, his arousal leaked for it. 

Clark saw the twitch of Lex's cock and the bead of precum that weeped from the head and slid down the shaft. 

Lex should have been able to hide in the darkness, but he got the sense that the lack of light in no way impeded Clark's ability to see. 

"You should stay," Lex offered, the words a graveled purr. 

He knew he would be turned down, but he had to at least try.

"I...I can't. I'm sorry Lex. I'm so sorry," Clark moved towards the door and was gone before Lex could protest further. 

"FUCK!" Lex swore and whacked the back of his skull against his headboard in frustration. His hand raced to his cock where he began jerking himself off in earnest. Frustration bubbled in his chest and spilled out of his mouth in a litany of swear words. He stroked himself quickly and roughly, unaware that Clark wasn't quite gone. 

Turned on beyond belief, Clark had made it to the mansion's garden before his super hearing of Lex's curses stopped him in his tracks. He turned, and against his better judgement and wholesome upbringing, he flipped into x-ray vision. He watched the scene unfolding in front of him helplessly. Lex's prone body was twisted in his direction and the dark of night was no impediment to his super sight. He watched Lex's pale hand slide along his glistening cock, reaching a fever pitch. Hell, he could hear the slap of Lex's balls against his thighs. 

The breath was ripped from Clark's body as he came in his boxers.

Beyond embarrassed and flushed with guilt, Clark supersped home. 

How the hell was he going to explain this away? He had...he had effectively assaulted Lex and then just...just ran away like a coward. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die. A thousand showers couldn't wash away the shocked look on Lex's face. 

What was going on with him? Why was this happening? How could he ask Jor-El when the caves were rubble and the ship was gone? One thing was sure, he needed answers, and fast. 

Lex had consumed his thoughts and overwhelmed his dreams. First he woke up in his house...and then his bed? What if he woke up next with his cock inside of his friend-turned-enemy? 

Staving off a panic attack, Clark raced home and took an impromptu shower in the barn with a hose. He couldn't go in the house, couldn't turn on the shower, couldn't risk waking up his mom. 

Worst of all, his orgasm hadn't helped. He was still hard and Lex's scent hung in his nostrils. It was as if scenting Lex's arousal had taken a piece of his mind that was already going insane and flipped it into overdrive. 

He was fucked. 

It was like...

Like he was...

In heat.


	3. Chapter 3

“You seem distracted Lex…” Lionel pocketed his hands and stalked the study. 

“Maybe you’re just not entertaining enough,” Lex shot.

“I’m not talking about just today son. Over the past three weeks your focus has been spotty at best and catastrophic at worst.” 

“Really Dad? Catastrophic? A little dramatic, don’t you think?” 

“You lost us five hundred thousand dollars on the Sartor deal by missing the loophole in the fine print.” 

“Oh, *I* lost it?” Lex huffed a laugh. “I thought we had lawyers for that sort of thing.” 

“I didn’t raise you to rely on others,” Lionel growled, walking right up to his boy and leveling him with his cold gaze. 

“You barely raised me at all,” Lex tried to pull the discussion away from his incompetence with a tactic he knew that Lionel would see right through. “I recall a wide variety of nannies…”

“You’re trying my patience Lex,” Lionel added about five extra ‘x’s’ to his name, drawing the sound out to a hiss. “I don’t know what has you so distracted...my guess is some nameless whore.” 

Lex ground his jaw and tried to reign in his rising fury. 

“But remember son - girlfriends and wives come and go, but LexCorp is forever. This is your legacy...not some cheap fuck...but your company. Your namesake and mine.” 

“What a pep talk,” the words fell sourly between them, so close that Lionel could likely feel Lex’s breath skating over him. 

“Get your shit together Lex,” daddy Luthor raised a hand and roughly patted Lex’s cheek. 

Thinking that he was about to be hit, Lex very nearly flinched but managed to suppress that reaction at the last second. Thank God. 

“You can start clearing up your mess today in fact,” he turned and moved towards the furthest sofa. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve made an appointment for you to speak with our lawyers in Metropolis this evening.” 

“What? You’re not my secretary...you can’t just…”

“I can and I did,” he sat. 

Lex swallowed and balled his fists. His lips parted, tongue desperate to wiggle his way out of this. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lionel was staring at him. “Did I ruin your plans to play with your newest distraction?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Maybe not, but I don’t really give a fuck son. You have to get your shit together and focus on the company. And if you can’t...well...then you shouldn’t be running things should you?”

“I’ll take care of it,” he muttered in a deadly low whisper. 

“Good boy,” Lionel said as if tossing a bone to a dog. He grabbed the papers he had tossed on the coffee table and stood to leave. 

Lex stood statue still as his father walked past him and out of the study. 

It had been a week since Clark’s last...illuminating bout of sleep walking...and Lex was terrified to leave the mansion. What if he missed a repeat visit? What would happen if Clark arrived to climb into his bed and Lex wasn’t beneath the sheets?

What if his nocturnal wanderings would lead to new revelations...or even just a chance to touch him...to kiss him. Lex would never forgive himself if he missed such an opportunity. And knowing life as he did, he knew the second he spent the night in Metropolis, that he would miss Clark. 

But he was backed into a corner and had no choice but to slide into his newest Porsche and begin the long and boring drive down the flat Kansas highway that would carry him to the city. 

On the way there, blasting his angriest most angst filled music, he considered meeting with the lawyers and then driving home that same night. But a one way trip was a nearly four hour drive. The thought of spending eight hours driving in one 24-hour period was...nauseating. 

He had neither the time nor the patience to do a two way trip. The helicopter wasn't’ an option either. The expense couldn't be justified or explained. 

God, he very nearly called the Kent home just to tell Clark, but what would he have said? “Hey, it’s me, your former best friend. If you feel like finally fucking me tonight after breaking into my house, you should know that I won’t be at the mansion. I’ll be in Metropolis. In my penthouse.”

Lex’s leather gloved hands tightened on the steering wheel.

He had a sudden mental image of himself stuck in the glass tower of his penthouse awaiting his prince in shining armor and he laughed. 

‘Fuck, it felt good to laugh,’ he thought. 

Things had been so bleary after his friendship with Clark fell to pieces. 

He was becoming closer and closer with Lana but...he knew it was only a sad effort to touch what Clark had touched. To sidle up to that single degree of separation and ease his pain. Obviously she was gorgeous and could hold her own, but she wasn’t Clark. 

She was a distraction. A way to ease the loneliness. But it never really went away - that loneliness. He could put it on hold with a good conversation or half a bottle of whiskey, but it was always tapping it’s fingers on the table, counting the seconds, waiting for him to be alone with his own suffocating presence. There was no one he could stand to be around less than himself. 

Well, save for Lionel of course. 

He took a breath and shifted in the leather seat.

The dreary Kansas landscape whizzed past the windows as Lex drove and drove, trapped in this moment with himself.

The best way to ease the suffering was to daydream. So he let his mind wander back to Clark, as it was always inclined to like a grocery cart with a messed up wheel determined to veer right. Instead of stopping it, this time, he went with it. 

The first thing his mind snapped back to was the look of shock on Clark’s face when he stood next to Lex’s bed, rock hard and nearly naked. 

How pathetic was he for begging Clark to stay? For pleading with him? 

“Fuck me Clark. Please,” the words were so close to his lips that he could taste them. 

The moment that Clark finally allowed his green eyes to slide down Lex’s body and land on his exposed cock…

“Fuck,” he breathed aloud. 

The look of pure desire splashed on Clark’s face in that moment would be enough to fuel Lex for a millenia. 

Clark wanted him. 

The secret was out. 

Was that why he was sleepwalking? Because he refused to acknowledge a need so enormous that it manifested itself in his sleep? 

But who the hell sleep walked 13 miles? Who sleep walked right into breaking and entering and turning off an alarm system? How did he even know the code? How did he know where Lex’s room was? 

For the night he had visited and the night after...Lex’s sheets smelled of him…

Luthor spent all morning in bed once the sunrise broke over Smallville. He buried his face in the pillow and nearly cried. 

The want was palpable. The desire to touch Clark...to kiss him...to fuck him...was consuming him to a degree that nothing else had in his entire life. 

Well, except maybe Desiree and her spell, but that was bullshit. This was real. This was four years of pent up sexual frustration, of lies and half truths, of quickly averted gazes and touches that lingered too long. 

Would he really ignore Clark’s lies if it meant that he could have him? 

Maybe. 

That’s how dire the situation had become. 

Thankfully, Lex didn’t entirely drown in his Clark-induced daydreams. He made it to Metropolis around dinnertime just in time for his appointment. 

Perhaps it would be a good thing to focus on Lexcorp. 

Work was safe. Work was routine. Lex was good at his job when he wasn’t being wholly distracted by a plaid-clad farmboy. 

He pulled into the LexCorp parking garage and cut the ignition. Learning his skull back against the headrest he took several deep breaths. 

It was time to focus on what needed to be done so that Lionel didn't use this opportunity to exploit his weakness. Lex was partly surprised that his father hadn’t used his slip up to shove him down and make a power grab. 

It was odd. 

He wondered what dear old dad was up to. 

He knew that he didn’t have enough mental energy to deal with Lionel right now. Not with so many questions surrounding Clark and his excursions. 

Grabbing his briefcase, Lex left his car in the garage and strolled towards the elevators. 

Above all else, he had to hold on to his power. 

Lionel was right...even if he’d gotten the gender wrong. Girlfriends and wives come and go, but LexCorp would be forever. 

Clark and the cloud of mystery that surrounded him would come and go. In leaving and taking his friendship with him, Lex was very nearly crushed beneath the weight of dire depression. It was LexCorp...coming to work each day...that saved him. It was his company that would be his legacy, his life, his main love. 

Clark was just a blip on the radar. 

Wasn’t he?

He got in the elevator and swiped his card, pressing the button for the top floor. 

The metal doors slid closed in front of him and he made a silent vow to leave his obsession over the farmboy back in Smallville where it belonged.


	4. Chapter 4

The meeting with the lawyers was soul-sucking. Oddly enough, it had been the perfect mix of boring and mentally taxing. Luckily, he managed to stay on task the entire time. He never let his mind wander towards Clark, which was a monumental feat. 

How did he do it?

He told himself that he would reward himself if he made it through the three hour meeting. He’d eat a steak from his favorite restaurant, take a long lavender-scented bubble bath, and then cap the night off with some prime masturbation complete with ass-play. 

The release from a solo session would be well deserved. 

He had a toy in his nightstand ready to go. It was a silky smooth silicone prostate massager that was the same navy blue as one of Clark’s favorite plaid shirts. Lex could get hard just thinking about that toy...just picturing Clark in that half buttoned shirt, naked from the waist down, holding that toy in one of his huge hands and his cock in the other. 

Lex cleared his throat, shifted in place and continued the elevator ride up to his penthouse. 

The meeting was over. The steak was devoured. The bath was next and he could scarcely wait to reach into his nightstand drawer for that forbidden object.

The doors slid open and revealed his expansive, empty home. The lights, sensing his movement, snapped on and he strolled into the space. 

It was straight into the tub for him.

He stripped as he went, leaving a trail of clothes in his wake that would have infuriated his tailor. Versace pants, Gucci button down, Salvatore Ferragamo silk tie...all discarded and left strewn along the hardwood floor. 

Slipping into the warm bubbled water in the grand master bath tub felt like heaven. He went the full nine yards during his soak - lighting candles, pulling out the fancy soaps, dimming the lights. 

Relaxing wasn’t Lex’s strong suit. It was Lionel who had the private masseuse and acupuncturist. It was Lionel who fit in vacations and spa days around business trips while Lex simply worked himself to death. Perhaps that was why Lex was unraveling while Lionel seemed fine. 

God forbid he take any pages out of Lionel’s book though. 

‘Let’s not think about Dad right now,’ Lex thought as he tried to cling to his bath even though the water was rapidly turning cold after an hour. 

Sadly, his skin did eventually prune and he was forced out of the warm cocoon of his tub. 

He had gotten as close to relaxation as he could. He’d breathed in the wonderful aromas of the candles, let his mind wander aimlessly, and most importantly, he thoroughly scrubbed himself down with an attention to detail and focus on self care that he hadn’t wielded in a long time. 

He pulled himself out of the tub and grabbed a fluffy white monogrammed towel.

It was almost time to play and blood was quickly traveling to his cock as he walked towards his bedroom wearing only that towel. 

By this point, he was sexual frustration personified. His mood was constantly sour and he snapped at whoever dared get in his way. LexCorp employees steered around him as if he were a black hole where happiness went to die. 

Some ‘fun time’ by himself was supposed to relieve this tension. 

He hoped it would. 

Maybe it was that hope that created the pressure that would inevitably ruin his evening.

As he sat splayed on his bed and slowly opened himself, he was supposed to feel that same relaxed relief that he’d felt in the tub. When he lubed up the toy and pressed it inside, it was supposed to feel like a relief, but it only seemed like a disappointment. 

Never in his life had Lex had any sexual trouble. But now, writhing and sweating on his bed, he could find neither relief nor release. 

It was enough to drive him insane. He was way too inside of his own head to enjoy much of anything. He wanted to chuck the toy and scream at the top of his lungs.

Not only had he endured being confused (and unintentionally teased) by Clark, but now his own body was betraying him?

After ten minutes of unsuccessful play time, Lex slid the toy out of himself and moved off his bed. He went to the bathroom and thoroughly cleaned it off with soap before gingerly drying it. Finally, he went to his nightstand to return the toy to it’s spot. 

If he hadn’t been in a bad mood before, he certainly was now. 

Unable to relax the way he wanted, he quickly shifted gears and turned to alcohol.

He poured himself a glass of his finest whiskey and sat down to watch the news. 

After he’d finished the drink, he poured himself another. 

It was set to be a long and lonely night. 

At one point, as he got a snack from the kitchen, he stopped to stare out the floor-length window. 

Metropolis hummed beneath him. Cars came and went in trails of red taillights and white headlights. The streetlights changed. People crawled about like ants on the sidewalk. The city never slept.

He briefly considered going out, maybe visiting one of his old haunts, but bars and clubs just didn’t hold the appeal that they used to. It wasn't even that he was old...he was only 26, but...he didn’t have it in him. 

And heaven forbid he actually go to a club and meet some hot piece of ass who wanted to take the fun to go. What if he couldn’t get it up for them?

“Fantastic,” he breathed into his cupboard as he got out a glass for water. “Clark broke my dick.” 

He turned on the water and filled the glass. The whine of the faucet stopped as he shut it off and he threw back the entirety of the cup, swallowing until there was nothing left. 

Bored and depressed, Lex dragged himself to bed around midnight. 

He hated being here. For possibly the first time in the last four years, he would have rather been in Smallville, at the mansion, just in case Clark came by. 

“God, is that what I’ve been reduced to?” he continued talking to himself as he entered his bedroom. “Some pathetic loser who sits around waiting for his enemy to climb into his bed? And not even of his own volition…” he shot the words at himself with as much disdain in each syllable as he could muster.

He felt like a loser. 

A beggar, sitting on the floor at the edge of Clark’s table like a dog, asking for any scraps he could get his paws on. 

“Daddy would be so disappointed,” he spoke as he took off his robe, draped it on a nearby chair, and climbed into bed naked. 

How desperately he wished that he could just turn off the clawing need he felt in his chest to see Clark, to touch his skin, to taste his lips. 

As the minutes passed, that is how Lex lulled himself into tiredness...by thinking of Clark. 

It must have worked, because sleep pulled at Lex’s eyelids and made him give a jaw-snapping yawn. 

He rolled over in bed and let sleep slowly pull him under. 

As reality floated further away and a dreamscape took shape, Lex’s mind conjured up the endless fields of Kansas corn. He was in a maze, an endless labyrinth of towering stalks that he couldn’t even jump to see over. 

Fear bubbled up in his chest as he once again felt just as he had as a little boy the day that the meteors rained down. Only now, he was an adult. He had shoved away his panic, he had buried that little boy, he had accepted the freak he’d become. 

In his dream, Lex walked and walked beneath the blistering Kansas sun but he failed to come to the edge of any field. Finally, he stopped, panting, sweating. He was trying to discern what his next course of action ought to be when he suddenly felt a presence behind him. 

Scared of what he might find, Lex swallowed and turned around regardless. 

Of course. 

Clark.

His hero. 

With a gasping breath, Lex awoke. 

The world reformed around him and his eyes struggled to see through the darkness. 

Despite being awake, he continued to feel that nagging pull as though he was being watched. 

Reacting to that feeling, he reached for the weapon he kept waiting in his nightstand and whipped his body towards his bedroom door. He aimed his glock towards the doorframe and the hulking, shadowed figure that stood there.

Blinking several times, Lex came to the dawning realization that the intruder was none other than Clark Kent.

His lips parted, words springing to his tongue to question what the hell was going on. But he stopped the syllables from forming or falling. What if Clark was in his usual sleepwalking trance? Did he really want to break that? 

Lex lowered his weapon and twisted to return it to it’s spot in the nightstand. 

Questions of morality flooded his sleep addled brain, but his curiosity was drowning them out. 

How the hell had Clark gotten here? Metropolis was more than 190 miles away from Smallville. Clearly, he hadn’t driven. He stood clad only in his boxers. His hair was windblown and the look on his face wasn’t quite discernable due to the darkness of the room. Had he walked? Run? Teleported? Just what were his powers?

Maybe it *was* wrong not to say anything. 

“Clark…” he whispered softly and watched for the words’ effects, or lack thereof, on Kent who began to walk forward. 

Lex dug his left hand into his silk sheets, feeling the texture, trying to convince himself that this wasn't a dream. 

Kent came to the foot of his bed and then climbed on, his weight causing the mattress to dip. 

Lex waited, breath caught in his lungs, as time pulled and stretched. 

In an insane stroke of luck, the clouds outside his window broke and bluish white moonlight floated into the bedroom. He could see the taut tan skin of his intruder, the muscles flexing as he crawled up the bed, towards Lex. 

Luthor wondered if he was going to pass out before he got there. 

His mouth was dry and his cock was hard and a war waged in his skull. Was Clark asleep? Did he already know the answer, but decided that he didn’t like it, so he was actively ignoring it? 

Now he could smell Clark’s cologne, and a hint of soap, and the familiar scent that could only be described as “outside.” 

As if summoned by his very dream, Clark invaded Lex’s space, and the billionaire who remained unfazed by most things in life found himself at a loss. 

He was turned on. And terrified. And hopeful in a way that, if he accepted it, could crush him completely. 

Kent tilted his head and Luthor did the same. 

Their lips met and a zip ripped through Lex, crackling like electricity in his veins and hissing like firecrackers behind his ribs. 

Unable to contain his long-bridled desire, Lex ran a hand through Clark’s hair and deepened the kiss considerably. Surprisingly, Clark reciprocated. 

Whether he was asleep or awake, Clark was exploring Lex’s mouth with his tongue and groaning into the kiss. 

Lex tried to record everything in his memory...the way Clark tasted of Crest, the little sounds he made, the softness of his hair, the solidity of his body. He pushed lightly at Kent and the young man was on his back, his hands never leaving Lex’s sides. 

He got quite the surprise when he sat on Clark’s lower abdomen and felt his cock behind him. He must have freed himself through the slit in his boxers while they were kissing. Feeling it hot and insistent behind him made Lex groan and writhe in his new lover’s lap. 

The thought occurred to him that he could stay like this for a thousand years - in Clark’s arms - arousal at a fever pitch, anticipation nearly choking him to death. 

His better judgement must have gone out the window, because Lex broke their kiss to scramble towards his nightstand and pull out the lube he’d been using earlier. With it securely in his hand, he returned to straddle Clark and pop open the lid. 

Squeezing the bottle, he got some on his fingers and began to reach behind him and apply the clear jelly to Kent’s cock. 

Clark’s eyes went from hooded to shut and his head strained back as pleasure visibly washed over him. 

He was a living sculpture, a god among men, Lex thought as he traced the long curve of his neck with his fingers before dipping down and doing the same with his tongue. Clark was squirming and groaning and bucking into nothing. 

Getting the hint, Lex raised himself over the impressive erection and pressed the solid spongy head of Clark’s cock against his already loose hole. Still - he knew this was going to hurt. It didn’t matter though, any sacrifice would be worth this. 

How long had he known Clark? How painful had it been when their friendship went down in a fiery ball of tattered mistrust? How long had he lusted after Kent? He sought his secrets, but more than that, he’d sought his heart. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that Clark would reciprocate. He’d resigned himself to the fact that his friend-turned-enemy was straight, and then he drowned his sorrows in an ocean of whiskey. 

But here Clark was, half open eyes staring up at Lex, the green of his irises sharp and beautiful even in the near dark. He had come to Lex for the third time and neither would leave disappointed, no, not this time. 

Slowly, Lex sank down on Clark’s cock, holding his breath until he bottomed out then letting go a shaky exhale of relief. 

For being a sex addict who had done absolutely everything with everyone, in this moment, he felt like a virgin. This was very dangerously close to resembling ‘making love’ rather than fucking - and that thought alone would be enough to give him a panic attack in the daylight. 

Clark’s huge warm hands were on his hips, gently prodding him to move, and he did. Luthor moved slowly at first, savoring every second, praying that he would be able to last. He drank in the moonlight drenched man beneath him, clothed in secrecy if nothing else, and in that moment it didn't even matter. Lex didn’t know what Clark was, but he knew that he needed him like a fish needs water. 

It hadn’t even been five full minutes and Lex already felt himself nearing the edge of climax. The shake in his legs, the buzz in his ears, the pull in his core all told him that it would be one of the best of his life. It gathered strength and he dug his nails into Clark’s chest, but the young man didn’t seem to mind. 

Muscles contracting, Lex rushed a hand to his cock as it began to spill. “Fu- Clark,” he breathed. His voice sounded ragged and raw and filled with emotion to the point that the words didn't even seem like they had come from his lips. 

He poured himself out on Clark’s abs and chest and felt his muscles contract around the flesh that was buried to the hilt inside of him. 

Forcing his eyes to stay open, Lex watched as Clark began to come. He saw Clark’s beautiful features twist in pained ecstasy as the cock in his ass twitched and began to fill him. 

It seemed endless. 

Lex wanted it to be endless. 

He wished that Clark would just consume him entirely. 

But nothing good ever lasts, and eventually, Clark’s jerky disjointed movements ceased. 

However, his motions didn’t descend to a gradual easing up. Instead, he stopped completely. Frozen. Still. His eyes no longer hooded but rather wide open and staring at Lex. 

“Lex,” he spoke for the first time since this started. He swallowed. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Lex felt his blood run cold as cold reality plunged him into an icy reckoning. 

“Clark,” he said the word as he usually did in the early days of their friendship - no disdain, no judgement - just his friends name tumbling past his defenses. 

He watched as Clark lifted his head and saw where they were still joined. 

Absolute horror began to dawn on Clark’s face. His mind was going into overdrive. Had he just raped Lex? Had he hurt him? What the hell happened?

“Clark I - “ 

Kent didn't give him the chance to finish. His hands had lifted him up and off of his still hard cock and deposited him on the bed. He stumbled off the bed and felt disoriented until he realized that they were at Lex’s penthouse in Metropolis. 

“Clark…” Lex was scrambling to follow him, but he had made it to the master bathroom. 

“Please, I just...need...a second,” and with that, he disappeared into the bathroom. 

Luthor stood on the other side, taking heaving breaths and trying to push away a panic attack - which was only bringing it closer. His eyes stung as tears of rejection threatened to well up. But what right did he have to feel sorry for himself? How could he fear losing what he had already lost? 

Although…

A violent shiver rolled through him and goosebumps rose up as he wondered if, and feared that, he had just raped Clark. 

He put a hand against the door and felt Kent’s come dripping out of him and down his thigh. 

“Clark?” he asked, but the word only hit the door and bounced back to him without a reply.


End file.
